


Austria | A Bonfire, a Leap, and a Very Silly Myth, Indeed

by bottseveryflavorbeans



Series: Seven Shades of Summer [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bonfires, Community: Seven Shades of Drarry, First Kiss, Folklore, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Era, Intoxication, M/M, Mentions of Myth and Folklore, Midsummer, Mythology Refrence, POV Harry Potter, Pining, Scottish Highlands, Silly Myths, Solstice, Summer Solstice, Traditions, hogwarts 8th year, myths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24753409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottseveryflavorbeans/pseuds/bottseveryflavorbeans
Summary: Harry sits alone, watching the Solstice Festival, a new tradition to celebrate good fortune put together by Hermione and a committee of Hogwarts students. The party is underway, with everyone drinking around bonfires, laughing, and basically being happier than him.Draco finds him, decides Harry needs some cheering up, and convinces him to take a leap that leads to something Harry only just realized he’d wanted for a long time.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Seven Shades of Summer [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1788955
Comments: 11
Kudos: 125
Collections: Seven Shades of Drarry





	Austria | A Bonfire, a Leap, and a Very Silly Myth, Indeed

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Summer anthology](/series/1788955), the second in a series of planned collaborative projects within the [Seven Shades of Drarry](/collections/Seven_Shades_of_Drarry) collective.
> 
> In Austria, the people come together during the Summer Solstice to light hundreds of mountain fires thought to worship the earth. For this fic, I’ve combined it with the jumping of the fire tradition, created from a mix of other Solstice rituals. 
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/2TEsvGg); one song for each of the seven fics included in the collection.
> 
> Accompanying song: “Reflecting Light” by Sam Philips

“This is the story of eternal love, celebrated at the Summer Solstice each year,” a voice boomed over the crowd. It sounded like Hermione, but Harry couldn’t be completely sure because it echoed over the rowdy crowd of students, professors, and villagers from Hogsmeade who were all gathered around flickering bonfires that had been placed along the slopes of the highlands. “Of two souls who met, fell in love, and yet had to spend their days apart, separated by long, dark nights. That is, until the days grew longer, allowing them to touch briefly on the nights when Dawn and Dusk got closer. They were so in love, they waited all year for just a moment with one another. And today, we celebrate that love by burning fires for the same good fortune in love and life as those two eternal lovers. It is said that jumping the flames brings good fortune and if done with your love, can predict whether the match will last…”

The crowd cheered in a roar so loud, so booming, that Harry had only ever heard its like at the Quidditch World Cup. It seemed like everyone was in a good mood, except for him. It seemed that everyone was also in a relationship, except for him. Hell, it seemed like everyone was ready for their future—except for him.

He sat alone on a tree stump that had been transfigured into a bench at the edge of the festivities with a cup of “Solstice Punch,” a concoction courtesy of Dean, Seamus, and Blaise—none of whom seemed to care that their creation was more alcohol than sweet summer drink. The cup Harry held smelled very obviously of vodka, with a faint whisper of fruit punch. He was sure if he tossed the cup in the nearest fire it would result in a flame that reached the tree tops.

That McGonagall and the other professors hadn’t noticed was almost as funny as the fact that Rosmerta, from the Three Broomsticks, had designated a few punch bowls as the “adult” ones and didn’t notice when she had started serving out of the ones Dean, Seamus and Blaise had spiked. Harry laughed to himself because it also seemed like everyone was much more drunk than he was, and he was decently tipsy.

Hermione’s voice (and he was sure it was her now, thanks to the fact that what should have been a romantic story had taken a hard left turn into a history lesson) still boomed, telling the story of the two eternal lovers and why they burn fires at the Solstice, but Harry tuned it out. He was practiced at tuning out history lessons, thanks to all those years listening to Professor Binns.

“Bottoms up,” Harry said bitterly to himself, tilted the cup to his lips, then closed his eyes and finished off the rest of the aforementioned ‘punch’ in one long swallow.

“Merlin, I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned,” a drawling voice came from behind Harry. He turned to see Draco Malfoy wearing a formal-looking royal blue suit, tailored to perfection, with the top-most buttons of his pale blue dress shirt undone. His robes were draped carefully over one arm. “Did you just finish off your whole cup in one sip?”

“I’d probably call it a gulp, but yes,” Harry said, placing his now empty cup on the ground in front of him.

Draco raised his brows, either in disgust or appreciation, placed his robes over the back of the bench, then sat down next to Harry. He leant forwards, rested his elbows on his thighs, and sighed. “What a sight, huh? Granger and her little squad of committee members have really outdone themselves. The whole damned hillside is on fire.”

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at some fancy dinner with your parents?” Harry asked, genuinely curious. The last year had been one weird thing after the other, including, but not limited to, his newfound friendship with Draco. He knew the Malfoys had planned a formal evening as a charity event to pay reparations as part of their post-war probation.

“Yup,” was all the reply Draco gave.

Harry shoved Draco with his shoulder. “Well, why aren’t you there now?”

“Got bored,” Draco said, scowling at Harry for shoving him, but it held none of the venom it once did. Now it was more like an inside joke for them. “Snuck out through the study’s Floo and then hoofed it from the Three Broomsticks.”

“Really?” Harry asked, half-impressed.

The sun had set long ago, but the air still held the warmth of a summer day. Draco hardly looked like he’d broken a sweat, but that wasn’t a surprise. A year’s worth of friendship had given Harry a peek behind the curtains in regards to the neat and tidy man sitting next to him. He often cast charms to freshen himself up. Harry joked that Draco was vain. Draco joked that Harry was frumpy.

Draco took a beat, seeming to consider his response as though he wasn’t sure how much to share with Harry, then nodded. “Mother tried a marriage set-up. This time with some Russian witch who was as straight as me.”

“Which is not very.” Harry narrowed his eyes at Draco and shoved him with his shoulder one more time.

“Exactly.” Draco tilted his head to the side and gave Harry a face that seemed to scream ‘Really, Potter?’ Then he folded his arms across his chest, slouched down until his head laid on the back of the bench. His long, slender legs outstretched in front of him, practically hitting the edge of the nearest bonfire.

Harry mimicked Draco’s position, except he tilted his head up to the sky and watched the embers of the fires float up and up like a swarm of fireflies. “You think your mum will ever let up?”

“No.” Draco snorted. “Not bloody likely.”

“Hmm, yeah,” Harry agreed. He chanced a look at Draco out of the corner of his eye and saw Draco staring into the fire. The light played along his angular jawline, setting some of his pale skin in shadow and highlighted the rest in the orange glow. Harry swallowed hard and tore his eyes away from Draco’s smooth, pale skin. Looking at the sky was much safer.

A half hour later, Draco broke their unspoken pact of silent wallowing and said, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Harry snorted. “Are we looking for honest answers, or am I supposed to tell you that you’re perfect the way you are so as to not hurt your fragile ego?”

“This is a nice festival,” he said, expertly ignoring Harry’s jibe. “Celebrating the Solstice and the graduating students and the future and all that. People should be enjoying it. _I_ should be enjoying it. Yet, here I am, scowling at all the happy couples and people drunk off their arses, thinking how ridiculous it all is.”

“No, I feel the same way,” Harry complained, his head still hanging back to look at the sky and the floating embers. “It’s a silly festival based on old traditions and a myth about two lovers that probably never existed. And if they did, their love story was nowhere near as sappy and happy-go-lucky as this. You’re telling me they were happy to only see each other once a year? That lighting bonfires in unique formations honours them, and jumping over smaller ones is good luck? Please. It makes a good story. That’s it.”

Draco shifted next to him and suddenly he was hanging over Harry’s face, apparently sitting up on his knees to look Harry in the eye. “I’m sorry, but where is Potter and what have you done with him?”

Harry blinked up at him, all too aware of how, this close, he could smell Draco’s soap — lavender and early spring. He inhaled, letting the scent wash over him. Now, that was a little disconcerting, almost as much as the fact that Harry _enjoyed_ that smell. He swallowed again, and laughed.

“Hah! Very funny. I can be full of hate and loathing, too. It is _not_ a Draco Malfoy exclusive, you know?”

“Just blink twice if you’re being coerced to say such pessimistic things. I promise I can help,” Draco teased, still leaning over Harry.

“I’m serious. This whole festival is making me cranky. All the bonfire jumping and excessive revelry. Everyone is having more fun than me, and they’re all excited for their futures, and I’m just…existing.”

Draco sighed, sat back on the bench and yanked Harry upright. “Not that I’m not excited to have some company in the ‘life sucks club,’ but I feel I must tell you, it sounds so weird coming from you, of all people.”

“Why?” Harry asked, bewildered.

“You, well, you’re like this paragon of, of…” Draco stopped, seemingly searching for the right word, “ _hope_ and all things fluffy and good. If you’re hitting rock bottom, I don’t know what that means for all us other mere mortals. You need to have hope, or else my whole world is turned upside down...And we both know I don’t do well with change.”

Harry sighed. “I have plenty of hope for other people’s futures, not so much my own, so you’re safe.”

“Come on, that settles it.” Draco leapt up from the bench, extended a hand to Harry, and said, “Get your arse up, Potter, we’re _doing_ it.”

“ _What_?” Harry asked, trying to understand. The ‘punch’ he'd consumed must've misinterpreted Draco’s intention with ‘doing it,’ because the images it provided were...Harry swallowed as he realised the idea wasn't nearly as off-putting as it probably should have been. This meant two things...First, Harry was definitely bisexual—no more floundering around on that—second, he was attracted to Draco Malfoy and owed Ron a Galleon.

Draco blinked at Harry like he was hopelessly moronic. “The bonfires. We’re going to jump them, like all the other too happy people at this stupid festival. We’re going to jump them and accept the good fortune that comes along with it.”

Harry was beginning to think Draco had lost his mind. He was sneaking out of family dinners, and now he wanted to jump over a fire. “ _You_? You’re going to jump over a fire? In that expensive suit? In those shoes?” Harry pointed down at the wing-tipped Oxfords Draco wore.

“Yes. Let’s go.” Draco extended his hand farther, practically putting it in Harry’s face.

Hesitantly, Harry laid his hand in Draco’s open palm. “Are we jumping together?”

“You jump, I jump, Jack,” Draco said, mimicking _Titanic_ (the only Muggle movie Draco seemed to like). He squeezed Harry’s hand once before dragging him over to the collection of smaller bonfires where people lined up to jump across, wearing flower wreaths on their heads.

The only thing racing through Harry’s mind as they waited in line behind some sixth years Harry didn’t know, was the fact that Draco was still holding his hand. The need for it had expired the second Draco led Harry to the line, yet there it remained, wrapped around Harry’s hand, the faint pulse in Draco’s wrist pumping against Harry’s own.

Harry swallowed hard, looked around and caught Hermione and Ron’s attention—both of whom looked down to see Harry and Draco holding hands. When their eyes snapped back up, Hermione gave him a soft smile of understanding, but Ron looked smug and mouthed, “Told you so.”

That made Harry laugh, and he shook his head at his friend. Draco glanced at him to see what was so funny, but Harry just smiled and said, “Solstice Punch. Blaise, Dean, and Seamus made it.”

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. “Say no more.”

The line moved and Draco kept his hand in Harry’s as they shuffled forwards. Draco craned his long neck around the people in front of them to watch as someone bounded over the flames. “Doesn’t look too hard.”

Harry nodded. “Were you here when Hermione told the story about the fires?”

“I caught the end of it.” Draco turned and smiled at Harry. His face was still beautifully illuminated by the flames surrounding them.

“Did you catch the bit about people jumping in pairs to see if they are well-matched?” Harry asked, his breath hitching in his throat as he forced himself to say the last bit, “Romantically speaking, I mean?”

Draco’s smile turned hesitant, the lines at the corners of his mouth fading as his smile did. “Huh, weird? I think I missed that part. What’s your point?”

Harry did his best to keep from sounding nervous. “My point is, if we jump together and hold hands the whole way over without breaking apart…it means we would make a good couple. They say, if you can jump over holding hands the whole time, then that’s the person who’s your perfect match.” When Draco didn’t respond, Harry quickly added, “According to the very silly myth, of course.”

“Of course,” Draco said, his head tilting to one side as he watched Harry. His expression gave nothing away. “So, since we’re both of the mind that it’s silly, then no harm done if we jump over holding hands, right? It’s not like we’re hoping for proof that we’re a good couple since we aren’t, in fact, a couple. Everyone else might be doing it as some Solstice fortune-telling thing, but we’re doing it to boost your morale.”

“I’m glad we totally agree on that then,” Harry said, not sure if he was relieved or disappointed that Draco didn’t seem more interested in the idea of them being romantically involved—seeing as Harry’s mind had finally acknowledged the crush Ron had been claiming he’d had for the last few months.

Once they finished talking, the line moved again, bringing them up to the front. They were next. Draco’s hand was still gripping Harry’s tightly, but he didn’t say anything, nor did he look at Harry. He kept his eyes on the small fire in front of them, about as wide across as a small round table. Easy enough to jump over.

Professor Flitwick, who was overseeing this particular fire, smiled warmly at Harry and Draco when they stepped up to the front. “You boys ready?”

Draco nodded. “We just run and jump?”

“Yes, and try to hold hands the whole way,” Flitwick confirmed, winking at the pair.

Harry felt a blush creep up his neck at the gesture. He looked at Draco, who seemed unfazed, and felt his heart pounding madly. Draco’s hand felt _right_ in his, and the sensation filled up a hole in his chest that he hadn’t been aware of having—one that had been torn open long ago. He didn’t want to let go.

“Ready, Potter?” Draco asked, turning fractionally and smirking. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead tugging Harry forwards with him.

They ran the short distance to the fire and leapt at the same time over the flames. Harry felt heat at his ankles but other than that, all he focused on was the laugh coming from Draco as they bounded over the fire to land on the other side.

Harry landed, planted his feet and tried to steady himself with an outstretched hand. His heart pounded even more fiercely, and when he was focused enough, he realised his hand was still neatly wrapped in Draco’s.

They’d made it over holding hands. The thought made Harry’s stomach flutter.

Draco cleared his throat, looked down at their still interlocked hands, and then back up to meet Harry’s eyes. “That wasn’t so bad.” He continued to stare at Harry, an odd expression on his face. He moved in closer to Harry and looked like he was going to say something, but then they heard Flitwick’s voice from the other side telling them they needed to clear the way.

That seemed to snap Draco out of it. He squeezed Harry’s hand once, let go, then started walking. He looked over his shoulder at Harry, who stupidly hadn’t moved, and nodded towards the bench where they’d been sitting.

Harry blinked twice and urged his feet forwards. He followed Draco one step behind, his heart pounding, his stomach fluttering. There was nothing left for it but to own up to his feelings. That hand in his was the last straw to his denial.

“So, you’re my perfect match, then. The fires have spoken,” Draco said, laughter in his words, as he sat down on the bench. “Guess that figures; I spent most of my life thinking about you, though most of the time, I _was_ trying to sabotage you. Mother will be so pleased when I tell her I’m meant to be with Harry Potter and not some rich, demure witch from a foreign country.”

Harry blinked a few times, confused, before taking the seat next to Draco. He sat closer than necessary—so close that their knees touched. _Was that a joke? Did Draco think the idea of them being together was ridiculous?_ The thought made his stomach sink.

He didn’t know what to say, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Uh, well, at least I’m rich, right? She’ll like that bit.”

It was Draco’s turn to look confused. His eyes went wide as saucers, obviously trying to decide if Harry was the one joking or not. “Uh, yeah, she will. It might make the fact that you’re a _man_ less of an obstacle.”

“I could wear a dress if that helps,” Harry huffed out, forcing himself to laugh. If he didn’t laugh, he might do something stupid like kiss those obnoxiously pouty lips.

Draco laughed eventually, obviously deciding that Harry had to be joking. His laugh, his smile, those lips… _did_ things to Harry, made him want things that he wasn’t sure he could have, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything after that exchange. What if Draco did think it was ridiculous that they could be romantically involved? What if Harry said something and it wasn’t reciprocated and he ruined their friendship? It had been a hard-won friendship, and he didn’t want to lose Draco now that he had him. His stomach was in his throat while those thoughts swirled around him like the smoke from the fires.

Draco looked intense as he watched the fire in front of them. “You ever think about what you should or shouldn’t want and wonder if your brain will ever shut up long enough to let you make a choice?” Draco asked, eyes still on the fire. He resumed his earlier position, resting his arms on his thighs.

“Nope. Never ever,” Harry said, his answer dripping with as much sarcasm as he could muster up, considering his brain was still running through scenarios where he confessed how he felt and got rejected.

Draco shook his head. “Right, silly question.”

“What is it your big old brain is debating about?” Harry matched Draco’s position so he could get a look at Draco’s face. Harry wanted to see Draco’s smokey grey eyes because his tone could conceal his feelings, but not those eyes.

They were close now, dangerously close. Harry felt a heat settle in him that had nothing to do with the bonfires, and waited for Draco to speak. Every inch of him tingled with the anticipation, and probably the after-effects of the Solstice Punch.

Draco sighed. “Nothing.”

“Come on,” Harry said, knocking Draco’s knee with his own. He didn’t want to come across too eager, but he was dying to know what Draco thought he shouldn’t do. “Out with it. This is a festival for good fortune next year. Can’t start that off with a lie. Not after we just jumped over a mythical fire. It’s gotta be bad luck or something.”

“Fine,” Draco agreed, hanging his head. “I was _thinking_ …I want to kiss you.”

Harry’s breath hitched. “Really?”

“I mean you’re my friend, so I shouldn’t want that. But I do. Maybe it's the firelight, maybe it’s the pressure of my family, or maybe…I don’t know,” he looked up and met Harry’s eyes, his gaze suddenly intense and challenging, “but I want to kiss you right now, and I don’t know if I should.”

“I see,” Harry replied. It was hard to keep his tone light and unaffected, really hard. But he didn’t want to let on anything until he was sure Draco wasn’t messing with him.

“I’ve been tossing it around since I sat down with you,” he said, chewing on his bottom lip in a quiet moment of thought, then added, “Actually, if I’m being _honest_ , a bit longer than that.”

“How much longer?” Harry asked, his heart practically soaring.

Draco sneered at him, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe a week. Maybe longer. Who knows? It’s not like I was counting the days, _Potter._ ”

“Really?” Harry laughed, feeling relieved. Draco wanted to kiss him. It wasn’t a joke. Only his pride kept him from crashing forwards and capturing Draco in a kiss right then. “So all that deliberation over what you should and shouldn’t do…and it’s over boring old me?”

“See, this is why I didn’t want to say anything.” Draco looked at Harry with profound annoyance that once might’ve been called a withering stare, but now Harry could see the affection in Draco’s eyes, he knew it wasn’t real annoyance. “It’s ridiculous, obviously. We’re friends, right, and it would mess all that up when it ended up being a terrible idea. And that’s assuming you’d want to kiss me back. Merlin, I hadn’t even considered you wouldn’t want to kiss me back. How horribly vain.”

Harry smiled at Draco, and it was such a big smile that his cheeks hurt. “You want to kiss me?”

“So what?” Draco scoffed, working to hide his own smile which threatened to take over. “I’m attracted to you or whatever, and I want to kiss you, but that doesn’t mean I _should._ And, like I said, that assumes _you’d_ want to kiss _me._ All this deliberation could be for nought.”

“And you’re worried it would ruin our friendship?” Harry prodded. He couldn’t stop his smile, or the way he’d unconsciously leant closer to Draco as he spoke.

Draco licked his bottom lip as he took a breath. “Okay, well, say I kiss you and we both feel nothing? It would’ve been ridiculous that we even tried. It would probably make things awkward between us, and I’ve grown used to having you around. I don’t want that to change.”

“Grown used to me?” Harry asked, laughter weaving its way into the words. Draco shot him a look, and Harry added, “I don’t want that to change either.”

“Okay. See?” Draco said as if his entire point was made by Harry’s agreement that they both wanted to remain in one another’s lives.

Harry, eager to have his lips on Draco’s so he could know if this crush was ill-fated, offered another interpretation. “Say it happens like that, but it’s _not_ awkward and at least we’d know?”

“Well, _sure,_ ” Draco admitted, “but say I kiss you, and I feel something and you don’t? Also ridiculous because now I’m embarrassed. Then the same result occurs: we can’t be friends anymore because I would be too mortified.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, unsure how to argue that point.

Without prompting, Draco continued his train of thought. “Or say I kiss you, and you feel something and I don’t? Disastrous. Therefore, it’s better to leave it alone. Isn’t it?”

Harry rolled one shoulder in a slight shrug. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“Maybe not?” Draco’s eyes were wide, expressive, and intent on Harry’s.

“We made it over that fire. Legend says we are a perfect match,” Harry said, explaining his thinking. He could feel every part of his body aching to pull Draco into a kiss, but he took a steadying breath. “You never know until you do it. Deliberating about something can only get you so far. Better to try and know for sure, I think.” Harry hoped his voice sounded steadier than his heart felt, less invested in the outcome. For several long moments, there was only the white noise of the festival around them and the sound of both their breathing.

“A-are you saying I _should_ kiss you?”

Harry lowered his voice to a whisper. “Yeah, I am.”

“Are you mad?” Draco’s eyes searched Harry’s face for something. He didn’t seem to find it, though because he frowned. Yet, he didn’t back away. “It’s ridiculous.”

“More ridiculous than continuing to wonder if you should or shouldn’t want to kiss me when I’ve told you to do it, effectively making the decision easier for you?”

Draco chewed at his bottom lip, his wide eyes still searching Harry’s face. “Fine. I think I _will_ kiss you then, but when it turns out to be ridiculous…”

“Merlin, just kiss me already.” Harry was feeling more than a little bit nervous, confident attitude aside. “Do it, Malfoy.”

Draco leant forwards, hovering his lips over Harry’s. “I’m doing it, Potter. I’m going to kiss you now. Stay still.”

“Get on w—” The rest of what he was going to say disappeared, immediately replaced with wonder at the sensation of Draco’s lips on his. Draco wrapped a hand around Harry’s neck, tugging him even closer.

As kisses went, this one felt like soaring on a brand new broom, floating above the clouds as the sun came up. It was passionate, but cautious. Neither of them moved to deepen the kiss. Instead, Draco took shaky breaths as he pressed his lips softly to Harry’s. They came up for air a minute later, Harry’s body trembling with the quiet, smouldering intensity of it.

Draco stared at him with wide eyes. He looked like he’d just lost his footing and couldn’t believe he fell to the ground, landing on his arse. “That was, uh, good.” He cleared his throat. “Right?”

“Uh,” Harry said eloquently. “Yeah. Not ridiculous at all.” He was still trembling. That kiss had taken him off guard in all the best ways. The feeling of Draco’s lips, the taste of him sweet like a Honeydukes treat, had taken hold of Harry, and he wanted more. “Though, I think maybe we need to do it one more time to really be sure.”

Draco’s lips quirked into a smirk. “How very thorough of you.” His fingers drummed on Harry’s neck, still holding his head steady.

“It’s only practical.” Harry shrugged and leant in until his lips found Draco’s. They kissed lightly again, a subtle pressing of lips to lips. Harry kept his hands in his lap, afraid that if he touched Draco he’d never be able to stop.

“ _Mmph_ ,” Draco hummed into Harry’s mouth before tilting his head, allowing Harry to deepen the kiss.

A primal need burned through Harry when Draco opened his mouth, flicking his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip. Draco wasn’t a patient man, not so far as Harry knew, but the kiss was patient. He never pushed, but instead, opened himself to Harry, letting him set the pace. And when their passion began to grow fevered, hungry, Draco started to slow the kiss until they were as they started, lip to lip. When they finally parted, neither of them was breathing properly.

Draco panted, trying to steady his breath. “Uh, so where are we on ‘how silly the fire myth is’? I know we said totally, but how sure are we _really?_ ”

“Depends,” Harry said between two deep breaths. “Where are we on the whole ‘should I or shouldn’t I’ thing?”

There was a long, silent moment as Draco took a deep, long breath. He let it out in a shudder. “I’m thinking ‘should’.”

Harry felt his heart flutter in wholehearted agreement. “Then I’m thinking not so silly after all.”

“I’m glad we totally agree on that, then.” Draco laughed and rested his forehead on Harry’s.

“Maybe…” Harry’s voice a trembling whisper, “…we should try a third time, just to be really, extra sure?”

Draco laughed again, his warm, sweet breath ghosting over Harry’s lips. “You’re ridiculous, Potter.” He used his hand on Harry’s neck to bring them together again, their lips slotting together in a slow, passionate kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This work is part of the [Seven Shades of Summer anthology](/series/1788955), a series of Drarry fics exploring Summer Solstice traditions from different parts of Europe.
> 
> I want to take a moment to thank all the amazing writers involved in this project. Everyone has such a unique voice and style. Without them, this experience wouldn’t have been the same. :D 
> 
> There’s also a playlist created for this anthology that can be found [here on Spotify](https://spoti.fi/2TEsvGg); one song for each of the seven fics included in the collection.


End file.
